


Dark Come Soon (020 Colorless)

by senoritablack



Series: big ass rickyl table [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Allusions to rape/abuse, Depression, M/M, PTSD, artist!daryl, artist!rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senoritablack/pseuds/senoritablack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't convince someone who don't see color, that they deserve it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Come Soon (020 Colorless)

There’s a thing about color that some people don’t get: seeing it’s a privilege. And you can’t convince someone who don’t see color, that they deserve it.

Sometimes food don’t taste like it ought to, he means, because everything is flavored by their packages—cardboard, freezer burnt, too salty, still cold in the middle. His music collection annoys him. His dirty laundry piles up and the smell breeds with the stacks of molding take out and souring beer, smells like bong water, like the puke bucket at his bedside.

He don’t notice the colors in things sometimes. He used to see ‘em all in detail, in neons, in the micro scheme of a backyard; used to see ‘em in the macro, of people and of a backyard's life bending towards the sun, feeding on the same chemical that probably helps make the sky look so blue. But trees are just trees, the sky is just there. They paint themselves in monotones, in blurs—in dashed lines. He gets their impression, senses that he’s not seeing them right, but he’s not awake or sober long enough to make things clearer.

It’s almost like he forgets to focus. But then he’s at bars writing out of drunk compulsion—small, repetitive sentences on beer coasters, and he remembers. 

_It’s just been too long coming._

_It’s just been too long coming._

_It’s just been too long coming._

_…too long coming._

_…too long coming._

_…too long coming._

When he’s drunk all that color he’s not seen for a while, it’s too bright, it’s too hot. He writes things that don’t know how to stay down. Like liquor, he purges, if he don’t write ‘em out, he mumbles ‘em between hiccoughs.

_You just can’t convince someone who don’t see color, that they fuckin deserve it._

_You just can’t…_

_You just can’t…_

He’s tries. Rick tries.

In greasy breakfast burger hangover cures, 30 gallon garbage bags, demos from a new band, lips to heart, in silence next to him watching an art documentary, Rick tries.

When Daryl’s distant, Rick allows him it. But he don’t stray far. When Daryl wakes at odd hours of the night, thrashing and pleading for it to stop, Rick’s already caught his hands in mid swing. He’s already shucking off their blanket. Rick’s already kissing Daryl’s knuckles, coaching his breathing to still, before letting go and lying as far away from him as possible.

Daryl ask why Rick does it sometimes. Doesn’t look when he’s telling Rick “you can’t fix nothing that was already made broke.”

And Rick’ll be honest. As he always is, Rick’ll coat nothing in sugar. Rick’ll say he knows, that he doesn’t give a shit, don’t care, say that he’s selfish when it comes to Daryl; that maybe he is a little indulgent.

But “love blind,” He’ll laugh, then say so calm, so solemn, “it can’t be blind.”

“Seeing and understanding color from the entire spectrum, that’s what it is. No one is trying to fix you, Daryl. Just offering a hand up.”

He’ll bring him a box of acrylics and a set of second hand store paintings. Before Daryl’ll get to ask him what he’s suppose to do with used canvas, tell him that he can’t even remember how to use a brush, Rick’ll smile.

 “So you don’t forget to paint today.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> just really sad sometimes. part of a secret rickyl big ass table i've been filling in my spare time. titled after tegan & sara's song of the same name.


End file.
